I try to be conscious about the things I complain about, and how I approach those complaints. I would rather cast a humorous slant than whine incessantly. I can't always find the humor in all the things that affect me, but I really do try. Today I half-listened to talk radio, so I heard half a conversation about first world problems. I know this phrase is a meme now, and just hearing it spoken reinforces my conviction to be aware when I'm trying to elicit sympathy where I don't deserve it, and cut it out. I know damned well that I have it good, and I make a point of stopping frequently and reminding myself of it, feeling grateful for it. Materially, I have what I need, and we are reasonably economically stable. I am surrounded by people who love me, and people who accept it when I love them back. I have a first class formal education, and a lifetime of travel and troubleshooting that made me able to think on my feet. I appreciate it all, and I don't ever want to come off like I don't.
Now I feel like I need to go back and reread how I reported my week at the gym. I worked hard, almost twelve hours total since Monday, and each day was pushing harder than the last. I was mentally exhausted and physically aching, but as the woman in the locker room said yesterday, "But it's a good sore, isn't it?" Yes. It was. It hurt and I wanted to curse the name of my buddy who devised our plan. However, there is evidence already, five days in, that it is making a difference. I'm in it to win it now. We are to do nothing over the weekend, so we recover, and Monday morning we are going to tear it up again.
For the first time today, I had enough energy left over to accomplish a few things, one of which was to take the kitten on a second trip to the shelter after the snafu on Wednesday. One more test, one more dip. But this time, they must have taken pity on us, because they only put the nasty stuff on her tail, not her whole body. So when we got home, it was only the second car ride in three days that she had to punish me for. She is not the most laid-back individual I've ever met. (In the pride, that title goes to the other black cat, my melancholy baby.) When I say Athena is "in your face," I mean it literally. She finds me, makes a little chirp that kind of sounds like she's saying "parp," and then she launches herself up to put her nose against mine. This is cute while she's a kitten, but it is going to get harder to handle when she is a big girl, and it's inevitable that one of these days she's going to do this when I'm holding a cup of hot coffee. Somebody is going to get scalded. Probably me. And she seems determined to make herself queen of the pride. Very much an alpha personality. It's probably not a problem, since the previous alpha is the old man, who is getting quite brittle in his old age. I don't think any of the others really care.
I think I took exactly two photos today, both intended to be texts to my daughter. Neither is fit for the blog (partly because of that whole no-human-faces thing), so I will leave it to your imagination today.
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